Our Redemption
by ouroboros88
Summary: Everyone knows about Jack, Kate, Locke, Sun, Hurley, and the others. What you may not realize, was that I was there too. My name is June Lindstrom, and I was a surviving member of Oceanic Flight 815...Hi, this is my first story, so any and all feedback is welcome, and I hope you enjoy. This story will be a Sawyer/OC, so if you don't like that, you don't have to read this.


_Flashback:_

Damn, I thought. I had forgotten how much I disliked flying. I had been sitting on this plane for only a couple hours and I was already reduced to sitting stiffly in my seat, with both hands holding on to the chair arms so tight that my knuckles were white. I was doing my best to breathe easily in and out, but every time we hit an obnoxiously rough bit of turbulence, my heart would speed up.

"Hey, you there Blondie", a rough voice, with a deep southern accent (possibly Alabama?) asked from the seat next to mine. I turned my head slightly towards the voice ( I was the only person with blonde hair in the immediate area), just enough that I could get a glimpse of who was talking to me without them seeing how white my face was.

"Yeah, I'm talking to you in seat 15A", the guy that was talking to me was sitting in seat 15D. Even sitting down, I could tell that he was tall, probably 6'2. Shaggy dirty-blonde hair, grayish-green eyes, and quite a bit of stubble gave him the classic "American cowboy" look. After giving him that look over, I realized with a growing embarrassment that he was looking at me, and that he had noticed me noticing him. "Um, sorry, but were you asking me something"? I felt like a fool, but it would have been rude _**Not**_ to say something. "Mr. Cowboy" gave me the "are you really that thick" look, and proceeded to talk. "Ya know, when somebody is going around giving advice, it's usually best to be nice to that body", he said this all with a salesman-white smile (the type that is more teeth then smile, and lets you know that said smile is as fake as Stephanie Meyer's _Twilight_.

Mr. Cowboy, realizing he had my attention, continued to speak. "Listen, I'm guessing that you haven't flown much, but could ya please tone down the whole tension thing you've got going on, it's kinda distracting me from this here really good book that I'm readin". I looked, in his hands there really was a book, some kind of paperback from the looks of it. I couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of embarrassment, but the rest of me was just annoyed. Who was this guy, to come to me and tell me to _**Lighten Up**__, _just so he could read!

Just as I was about to snap off some witty comment to Mr. Cowboy, we hit another really bad bit of turbulence. Not even seconds after, everyone on Oceanic Flight 815 was about to find out that this was not some normal turbulence. The plane began jittering around, baggage was falling out of compartments, and people were falling down all over. It was when the oxygen masks were released that panic really set in. I had been holding on even harder to my seat in an effort not to get sucked out the end of the plane, where the tail had broken off, and was attempting to reach for my oxygen mask when something large, heavy, and possibly metal hit me in the head. I must have blanked out after that, for I have no recollection of the next few minutes.

_Day 1:_

My head felt awful, as if someone had whacked me repeatedly with a wooden club. My eyes were closed, and even without opening them, I could that it was very bright out, possibly mid-afternoon. As I cracked my eyes open, not only did I become aware of the fact that I was staring at the bright blue sky above me, but the sky had was tinged with dark grey smoke, and loud screams and crashing noises filled the air with chaos.

I managed to sit up, my back cracking uncomfortably in several places, and realized with growing surprise and horror that I was on a beach. That's right, a beach. The type that you always see in tropical vacation brochures. It was a very beautiful beach, with soft warm sand, bright blue sky, and deep green-blue waters. It truly was a nice beach, I thought, of course, it would be even better if you edited out the fact that the plane I was on just a few minutes ago was crashed and burning on said beach, and my fellow passengers were running this way and that screaming. They remained me of chickens with their heads cut off, only with less feathers and more noise.

After slowing bringing myself into a standing position, I figured it would be best to locate my luggage and see if anyone needed help. Moving closer to the wreckage, and the other people that surrounded it, I almost got attacked by some Barbie-doll look-alike, who screamed at me to (quote) "get the hell away from her, and where the fuck was her suitcase". After detaching from that ray of sunshine, I ran over to a heavily pregnant blonde girl being helped away from the wreckage by this huge guy.

"Hey", I yelled to them as I crossed the distance. "Are you both okay, do either of you need some help"? They looked at surprised, as if they thought it more likely for me to lunge and try to eat them or something. The big guy started to speak while the pregnant girl stared at the ground. "Look dude, thanks for offering and all, but I think we've got it covered over here. I guess if you're looking for something to due, you could always find Jack or that guy who's trying to start a bonfire". I was relieved that they were alright and that they didn't need any help, but I had no idea who this "Jack" person was, or anything about a guy building a bonfire. "Um, I'm sorry, but could you please tell me who or where either of those two guys are, because I have no idea"?

After the guy (he told me to call him Hurley, and the girl's name was Claire) directed me to where the bonfire guy was, I headed over there, as it seemed that that Jack guy had disappeared. The bonfire guy wasn't that hard to find, as he was standing next to a nicely burning bonfire. "Um, excuse me, but are you the guy that has been building the bonfires"? I asked politely. The guy looking at me was definitely Middle Eastern, and when he spoke, his accent confirmed it. "I am sorry, I do not know your name, but yes, I am the one who has been building the bonfires, my name is Sayid Jarrah". "Well", I said, "I came over because I was wondering if you would like some help keeping the fires going".

After looking at me for a few seconds, Sayid said, "I would appreciate the help very much, but, may I ask what your name is"? I couldn't help but widen my eyes. Oh my God, am I stupid or what, I totally forgot to introduce myself! "I am so sorry! I'm June. June Lindström. I was, am, you know, on the plane too". After my awkward introduction, Sayid smiled and had me go around collecting any wood that I could find for the fires. There was another survived that was already helping Sayid keep the fires going. He introduced himself as Charlie. He seemed alright, but something about how twitchy he acted seemed off. While it did occur to me that he may have just been in shock, I decided to keep my eyes on him anyway.

Later that night, while everyone was just begging to settle down, strange noises began emanating from the jungle. The sound of trees being pulled apart, and the crash of them falling to the earth reverberated around the beach. Needless to say, everyone was pretty freaked out, and it wasn't until much later that I was able to fall into an uneasy sleep.

_Day 2:_

It was just around dawn the next morning when I woke up. I was stiff, and as I stood up to stretch, it felt as though every bone in my body cracked and that my bonfire was getting pretty low, I walked closer to forest in search of wood. After finding a good armful of twigs and small sticks, I began to return to the beach. My bonfire was farther down the beach, away from the rest of the survivors, so I had to walk past them in order to get to my part if the beach.

"Hey, Blondie". I heard the yell, but due to the fact that there a group of x-amount of passengers, many of whom could also be blonde, I didn't stop. In fact, I walked faster. It was when I heard the quickly approaching footsteps behind me that I slowed down and turned, not sure if someone was about to plow into me or not. When I saw who was following, I couldn't help but groan. It was Mr. Cowboy from seat 15D. Deciding that it would be better to get this conversation over with as quickly as possible, I stood still and waited for him to catch up. It didn't take him long.

"Damn", he said when caught up. "I didn't think a shorty like yourself could walk so fast, what with those tiny legs of yours"! While him being so out of breath from trying to reach was pretty funny, I couldn't help but be a _**little**_ miffed about the shorty comment. I mean, ya, I am pretty short at about 5 feet and an inch, but that didn't mean he had poke me about it. Putting my thoughts aside, "okay, what do you want". He actually looked surprised that I talked to him, as if he thought I would just walk off and ignore him or something!


End file.
